Chapter 106 The Fracture
The steam from the shower hadn't just washed away the grime of the storage room; it had stripped away the last of my illusions. By the time I reached the cafe, my hair was still damp at the ends, and the cold Brooklyn wind felt like needles against my skin. The new phone in my pocket felt like a lead weight. Every time it buzzed with a check-in text from Nate, I felt a fresh wave of guilt and pride clash in my chest. He was a world away in a penthouse built of glass and certainty, while I was walking into the only place I had left to turn.
The bell above the door chimed—a cheerful, tinny sound that felt like a mockery. The cafe was mid-afternoon quiet, the smell of roasted beans and cinnamon rolls acting as a temporary balm for my frayed nerves. I saw Eliza behind the counter, her hair tucked into a messy bun, looking exhausted but solid. She was the only thing in my life that didn't feel like it was shifting under my feet.
"Mila!" she breathed, dropping a dish towel the second she saw me. She rushed around the counter, her eyes wide with worry. "You look like you've seen a ghost. I thought you were stuck at the library? I’ve been trying to cover for you, but—"
"They didn't pay the rent, Eliza," I said, my voice cracking before I could stop it. I leaned against the pastry case, the glass cool against my trembling hands. "The Salvatores gave them enough to cover a year. I gave them every tip I earned here. And there’s a yellow notice on my door. We’re being evicted."
Eliza’s face went pale. "What? Mila, that’s thousands of dollars. Where did it go?"
"I don't know," I whispered, the bitterness rising in my throat. "Gambling, booze, old debts—does it even matter? The landlord was there when I tried to go back out. He had a couple with him, Eliza. A young couple looking at the 'charming' layout of our living room. He told me he’s moving them in by the end of the week. He’s done with us. He won't even listen to a payment plan."
"You have to tell Nate," Eliza said firmly, grabbing my hands. "He’ll fix it in five minutes. He'd probably buy the whole block just to make sure you're comfortable."
"I can't," I snapped, more harshly than I intended. "If I let him buy my life back, I’m just a kept woman. I’m exactly the charity case Scarlett said I was. I have to do this myself. But the power is going off tomorrow, and the landlord is changing the locks. I have a spot in the Alverstone dorms because of my scholarship, but I can't take the girls there. I can't bring two middle-schoolers into a freshman dorm."
I looked at Eliza, the desperation finally clawing its way to the surface. This was the hardest decision I had ever faced. I prided myself on being their protector, their surrogate mother, the one who kept the walls from caving in. But the walls had already collapsed.
"Eliza... I need to ask you something. Something huge. I need to work double shifts. I need to take every extra credit and internship stipend Alverstone offers. I need to grind until I have enough for a deposit on a new place. But until then... can your parents take them?"
Eliza didn't even hesitate. She knew my parents, and more importantly, she knew mine. Her parents, the Joneses, were the kind of people who always had an extra plate at the table and a lecture about overcoats ready for anyone who walked through their door. They were the grounded, middle-class heart of this neighborhood—the total opposite of the cold Salvatore opulence or my own parents' chaotic neglect.
"Of course," Eliza whispered, her eyes shining with tears. "My mom already treats Zoe like her own. They have the guest room. It’ll be tight, but they’ll be safe, Mila. They’ll have lights, and they’ll have food. My dad will make sure they get to school on time. You know the Jones house—there's always room for two more."
The relief was so sharp it felt like a physical pain. But it was followed by a realization that felt like a limb being severed. To save them, I had to leave them.
The sun was setting by the time we moved their things. It didn't take long; most of what they owned fit into a few battered suitcases and trash bags. We didn't tell them the full truth about the money—I couldn't bear to see the light go out in their eyes when they realized our parents had betrayed them, too. I told them it was a "temporary plumbing issue," a lie that tasted like ash.
Standing on the sidewalk in front of the Jones' brick row house, the reality hit.
"I don't want to go," Zoe sobbed, her small hands clutching the fabric of my joggers so hard her knuckles were white. She buried her face in my hip, her tears soaking through the expensive cashmere Nate had bought me. "Why can't we stay with you at the school? I’ll be quiet, Mila. I promise. I’ll hide under the bed."
"You can't, honey," I choked out, kneeling so I was eye-level with her. My heart was breaking, shattering into a million jagged pieces. I reached out, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. "The school is very strict. But Mrs. Jones is making her famous lasagna tonight. And I’m going to call you every single morning before your first bell. Every single morning."
Grace stood behind her, older and more observant. She saw the yellow notice tucked into my pocket. She saw the way my hands wouldn't stop shaking. She didn't cry; she just looked at me with a profound, quiet sadness that made me feel like I had failed her more than anyone else ever could. She stepped forward and took Zoe’s hand, gently prying her off my leg.
"When can we come home, Mila?" Zoe asked, her voice small and trembling as the Joneses' front door stood open, casting a warm, inviting light onto the porch. "When is home going to be ready?"
"Soon," I promised, though the word felt like a lie I’d be paying for for the rest of my life. "I’m going to work so hard. I’m going to get us a place where nobody can ever put a paper on the door again. I promise."
I watched them walk inside. I watched the heavy oak door close, shutting out the only people who made all the struggle worth it. I stood on the sidewalk of the neighborhood I had fought so hard to escape, feeling like the poorest person on earth.
I was alone. For the first time in my life, I didn't have my sisters to look after. The silence was deafening. I had two choices: call Nate and surrender, or go to that dorm room and start the hardest fight of my life.
I turned toward the subway, toward Alverstone, and I didn't look back.